Fever
by Dukes126plus
Summary: Aunt Lavinia used to say that Luke was blessed with the constitution of an ox, but cursed with just as much stubbornness. From The Great Bank Robbery.


Okay, so when I was halfway through this one, I went back and watched the scenes highlighted here again. Turns out that where I have Bo driving, canon has Luke driving. I decided to ignore this little mistake, because I liked how this was going. So, um, yeah. I cheated.

Anyway, this one's from _The Great Bank Robbery_, and was inspired by wet boys in a bank. (Canon also makes them magically dry as soon as they are out of town. In this case, I feel justified in having let them stay wet.)

* * *

Aunt Lavinia used to say that Luke was blessed with the constitution of an ox, but cursed with just as much stubbornness. The only way to tell he was sick, she said, was to notice when he went after the chores with a vengeance, like maybe if he was aggressive enough, whatever manner physical ailment was bothering him would just give up and move on to the next body. After two or three bouts with childhood illnesses made worse by Luke's obstinate insistence that he wasn't sick, their aunt took to feeling his forehead any time she caught him going after a shovel or ax or wheelbarrow when he wasn't under direct orders to do so.

Luke never got any better about admitting when he was coming down with something, but Bo was starting to get the idea that he must be. The Duke boys ran across Hazzard Square's rooftops almost as often as they drove its streets. No way Luke would misjudge the number of steps before the leap unless he was drunk (Bo knew he wasn't) or dizzy. Even as Bo was helping Luke haul himself back up from a near-fall, three stories up, he was wondering whether his cousin maybe had a head cold.

A few minutes later the symptoms started seeming closer to fever. Inside the bank, Luke appeared sluggish, not as quick to action as usual (and come to think of it, Bo could feel heat radiating up from Luke when he laid down on top of him under Boss's desk) staring at Bo with a kind of glazed look, watching him get drenched by the sprinkler system. Felt like forever before Luke got himself moving in the right direction and those dull edges became sharp again. A sharp Luke was amazing to watch, hurdling fences, playing catch like they what they were tossing around was a football instead of a slippery wet suitcase full of money. Damn good thing his cousin's fever seemed to have abated just when they needed it to.

As soon as the excitement passed, though, Luke was clearly symptomatic again. Cletus having been dunked, they were left to fly down old dirt roads to Jensen's Hollow where they'd be camping that night, cold wind whipping around their ears. Luke was slouched into that corner he liked so much, where seat met welded door. Tight space that Bo never figured out Luke's love for, and there was no way he could start working it out now. No way to make sense of anything, not with the way Luke was staring at him. No longer a glazed look, much more focused, intense, hard in a way that he hadn't seen from Luke in years.

"What?" he demanded, trying to sound more angry than nervous.

"You're wet," Luke informed him, helpfully.

Maybe it was a sore throat that his deep-voiced his cousin had. "So are you," was his reminder, followed by the realization that if Luke was sick they really needed to get back to the campsite and dried off as quickly as possible. That thought, plus the knowledge that Hazzard's law was otherwise occupied right now, were his excuses for putting the accelerator down closer to the floor and concentrating hard on the road.

Which was how it came to pass that he got startled – almost to the point of driving them into a tree – by Luke's touch, big hand in his hair, exploring the way water clung to curled clumps. All that movement he must have missed, Luke's whole body shifting from one side of the car practically to the other, up close enough that Bo could feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Luke!" he snapped, right after he regained control of the car.

"A wet mess," Luke expanded on his explanation, still managing to tell Bo absolutely nothing he didn't already know.

So he crossed his left hand over his body to stick it in the middle of Luke somewhere, maybe his chest, possibly shoulder. He could turn to look; those eyes were over there, probably still staring. Pushed his cousin back over toward his own side of the car. "Stay over there." It was a command. Answered by a shrug he could feel, pulling at the muscles under his hand; not quite a shoulder then, but close. Wet shirt under his hand, just as soaked as he was. Luke could just run his fingers through his own damn hair.

Luke's fever stayed under control long enough for them to get to Jensen's Hollow without further incident. They even CB'd Cooter's garage, managing to sound pretty normal talking to Jesse, while standing close together outside of the car and passing the mic back and forth like they always had. Soon as the conversation was over though, Luke chucked the CB back into the car, then grabbed Bo by the belt to shove him up against the door.

"Uh, Luke?" Bo wasn't really looking for a way to escape from the pressure of his cousin's hand on his chest. It was more like assessing the terrain, maybe scouting out firewood in advance. "Don't you think maybe you ought to get out of them wet clothes?" Firewood, so they could warm up, make some coffee for Luke's sore throat. "Our sleeping bags is in the trunk." A nap, Luke could do with a nap.

"In a minute," Luke promised, shifting his right forearm across Bo's chest to hold him still. That left hand went after Bo's hair again, making it messier than it must have already been. "Smile."

Oh, sure, smile. When he was pinned to the car by his clearly fevered cousin, hard metal against his back, soft fingers in his hair. He could push and shove his way out, but Luke wasn't exactly hurting him. Not much, anyway.

"Jesse and Daisy are on their way," was Bo's reminder. He would have looked forward to Jesse's help in putting Luke to bed, if only it wouldn't mean his uncle seeing them like this.

Firm nod from Luke. "I know. Smile."

Oh, hell. It wasn't all that much to ask, really, if only Luke wasn't so damn close when he was doing the asking. Bo felt his lips pull up and stretch over his teeth; couldn't tell from the feel whether it was a smile or closer to a grimace. Luke's head tilted to one side a little bit, eyes just as intense as Bo had ever seen them, like maybe he was deciding whether Bo had put enough effort into fulfilling his request.

"Damn," came softer than the breeze, motionless as the mountains to the west. "You're pretty," Luke finished, pulling that hard forearm out from between them, letting their wet shirts come together, lips touching.

Heat, rushing up his chest, neck and face; Luke's fever was contagious.


End file.
